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good bye poem

los pasillos de mármol resounding largos
apenas como mis dedos en estas llaves
aunque soy poco como todas las pequeñas cosas
no permanezca no más
la música i oído con usted era más que música
ciudad que no es una ciudad
aunque repine del amor, y rozadura de la razón
fuera de mí indigno y desconocido
allí por la ventana en la vieja casa
con su pelo flaying violentamente
se van los tres, esas hermanas raras
aquí miente una señora más hermosa

 



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